Atticus's Odyssey: Reincarnated Into A Playground

Chapter 1411  Unruly

'A new fragment bearer.'

The golden rays of the sun cascaded down heavily on the world of Asterra. The silence was immense.

With a gaze devoid of emotion, Atticus gazed at the deep trench that formed under the aftermath of his attack.

He had missed.

'He took her.'

Atticus found his mind spinning. He had watched bits of the fight from a distance, resolving to take on the role of support because of the Saint.

In the little time he'd spent with the woman, he knew the last thing she wanted was him intervening in her fights, except it was absolutely necessary. Plus, that was the man who had killed her loved one; it wasn't his place to interfere in her revenge.

Regardless, his hesitation had caused a dangerous enemy to escape.

'What does this mean?'

Why had the Sentinel taken the newly awakened? Was it simply due to the heightened moment, or was there something else at play here…

'Unexpected.' It was a twist Atticus had never expected to occur. The battle was almost over. The light of the world had returned, and Anorah had been about to land the final hit. Who would have guessed that the one person who would be crazy enough to intervene in a battle of such magnitude would be a Marked.

'Well, I guess it makes sense.'

He couldn't exactly be determined as normal. This was the same for Anorah, and if Atticus could guess right, for the other fragment bearers too.

Atticus sheathed his katana and swept his gaze around.

Their battle had decimated the wasteland. The resistance army, though significantly reduced, stood at one edge of the wasteland, bathing under the cascading sunlight.

The little remnants of the Will Guard army stood on the opposite edge, but Atticus didn't pay attention to them. They weren't his to kill.

He turned towards the Saint. Anorah's eyes were fixed in his direction, but…

'She's not looking at me.'

She gazed at the point the Sentinel had vanished, eyes unreadable.

'She's still in Logoth.'

Not even Atticus was sure what would occur should she leave the calm state of Logoth. Would her composure still remain?

Leaving it as a mystery for later, Atticus faced the Arbiter in the sky, who stared at the scene with a trembling gaze.

"Great Verge," he called out, "this is a battle sanctioned by you. We were supposed to fight until the last one was left standing. The Sentinel clearly broke this."

The Arbiter's eyes snapped towards Atticus, eyes constricting.

"You—"

It froze suddenly, staring absentmindedly into the void. Its eyes lost focus.

'It's speaking with the Verge,' Atticus realized.

'He's avoiding me. Something happened.' The Verge had been quick to make his presence known when he called earlier. Now, he was speaking through the creature.

Moments later, the Arbiter's focus returned. It straightened its posture, forcing a composed smile.

"The great and boundless Verge," it started solemnly, "has expressed great displeasure at what has just transpired. He has declared that he will get to the bottom of this matter. Rest assured."

Atticus frowned. "You allow others to break your own rules," he said, "and then feed me this generic explanation. Is this how worthless the words of the Verge are?"

The Arbiter's expression twisted. "Watch your words, child!"

"Or what?" Atticus narrowed his eyes, "You'll prove your insignificance again?

"You—!" The Arbiter trembled with rage, and the skies above Asterra crackled, thunder rolling like the roar of gods.

Before it could speak again, another voice sliced in.

"Ask your master."

All eyes turned toward the Saint. She met the Arbiter's fury with calm poise.

"The Sentinel broke the rules and abandoned the battle," she said. "What will be done to correct this?"

The Arbiter's eyes turned clouded once more, distant for a moment. When its focus returned, the fury had been smothered. It drew a slow breath.

"My master says… another chance will come. For now, accept reality."

Without another word, the Arbiter vanished, dissolving into thin air.

Atticus watched in silence.

'As I thought,' he pondered. 'The Verge can't be trusted.'

Politics. He was certain that was the root of it.

A Sentinel was not above a Star. new technology or not. Not even close. If a Star wished to keep a Sentinel in line, it would be so.

'None of the Stars can,' Atticus thought darkly. 'They're all beings with desires, ambitions… and limits. Just like anyone else, only with more power.'

To trust them was to hand over his life to another. And that, Atticus would never do.

Atticus appeared before the pondering Anorah.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Anorah slowly turned to him. She was still deep inside Logoth, and somehow, her calmness at this situation unsettled him.

"What do you mean?"

'I should be direct.'

"The one who killed your loved one escaped. Are you not angry?"

"I am," Anorah replied. Her voice was too calm to sound believable.

She turned toward the remnants of the Will Guard army. Barely two dozen remained, some bleeding, a few crawling through the dirt, crying for help.

"But right now…" she lifted her sword and swept it to the side, golden light glinting along the blade's edge.

"…anger is useless to me."

Anorah vanished.

To the Will Guard, it was as if light itself had torn through them. Their eyes widened in horror, but before any of them could even raise their blades, her sword danced.

Cries rang out, swallowed by the sounds of searing flesh.

But as the moments passed, the screams began fading one by one, until silence returned. Only the stench of death and the glimmer of blood soaked light remained.

Anorah stood amidst the carnage, her expression calm. Her blade dripped scarlet, but her eyes reflected nothing.

From a distance, Atticus watched in silence.

He neither spoke nor moved. The sight before him needed no words.

…

"Hmm. To think you would make me break my own rules. How unruly."

"Favors are simply delayed consequences, Verge. You're paying what was always yours to pay."

The Verge chuckled softly.

"Perhaps. But I fear I've just ruined whatever fragile bond I was building with that thrilling child."

"You still have the terrible habit of clinging to the volatile," the voice replied. "Did you forget who pulls the strings of his destiny?"

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," the Verge said. "But what can I say? It's an addiction."

"An addiction that could spell your doom."

"Oh, you would mourn me, Span!" The Verge grinned into the void. "Who will entertain those ancient bones of yours when I'm gone?"